Hall of a Thousand Masks
by jellyjay
Summary: It’s not seeing for real but it’s enough to compensate for the darkness that doesn’t lift during the day. Sequel/Companion Fic to the drabble series 'Oblivious'. Mild Taang.


**Hi guys!**

**I know a lot of you will never have heard of a fic called _'Oblivious' _before, but it is important that you read that first. This. Is. A. Sequel/Companion fic type thing but it follows on from a drabble series I wrote ages back called '_Oblivious' _(Find it on my profile). DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF YOU HAVE NOT READ IT. I guarantee you, it's for the better that you read that first. **

**If there's anyone here who has already read it and remembers it… Yes, I know, this is… a couple of years late. I started writing it straight after the drabble series and then I forgot about it, and then I found it last night and wondered why I never finished it. So I did. And now, here it is.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Hall of a Thousand Masks**

* * *

_At Twelve _

* * *

Having never been able to see, it's natural that Toph wonders what it's like sometimes. When people make comments about the beauty of landscape or objects in the sky or about her appearance – as a compliment or an insult – even she has to admit that the disability she usually calls a blessing is, in fact, a disability.

Then one night she has a dream. It is bright and vivid and she wonders: Is this what it is like to see? This dream – this world – isn't made of darkness. It's made of colours she's never seen before. It's made of distinct shapes she doesn't have to touch to see. It's made of floors that don't allow vibrations to travel through them.

She can't earthbend in this dream world. But she can _see. _

She visits the same dream world almost every month or so after the first time she has it. Sometimes what happens is different. A lot of the time it's the same.

But the boy is always in it. It's his eyes that get to her every time – that soft metallic colour that reminds her vaguely of the soft pitter-patter of rain. She thinks she knows him. She's not sure. But he's always there to take her away from the monster with the masks.

It's not seeing for real but it's enough to compensate for the darkness that doesn't lift during the day.

* * *

Her dreams always begin in a hallway. She's pretty sure that's what it is as she's never actually seen one properly, but it feels like one.

It's the same hallway every time – it's always very grand and dimly lit, and it seems like it goes on forever. Her dream self can never see the end – it gets darker the further it goes on.

The floors are cold and stiff, like marble. The dark patterns etched into it curl and unfurl all the way along the sides into the darkness at both ends like never ending stretches of dark ribbon.

It's the walls she finds most fascinating. They are lined with masks – thousands and thousands of them, elaborately designed with silk ties hanging from the sides – that look as if they are watching her every move from their dark, eyeless sockets. The shadows cast on them from the torches spaced every few metres along make them look eerie and desperate for proper light. They are beautiful and very frightening at the same time.

But there's something else in this hall – something with an echoing, disembodied voice that whispers and cackles at her from the darkened ends of the corridor sending unwelcome shivers up her spine.

_Welcome back, child… you can't escape me this time…_

She can't earthbend here. She can't fight. So she turns to run instead, only to bump into the figure that always appears to her dream self when she needs him most.

It's the boy. The one with the soft, metallic eyes.

He smiles at her and offers a hand.

_C'mon. That creature's not going to get the pleasure of stealing your face today._

* * *

When the hall vanishes, she finds that she is in a rather marshy place. She says this because the mud and grass beneath her feet feel just like one only minus the thick vibrations she usually feels in the mud.

There is an odd silence between them as they make their way through long blades of discoloured swamp plants – not that she can tell what colour they are at all– she just assumes they're discoloured. Aang once tried to describe what 'green' is, telling her that it is the colour of most plants and that it reminds him of her – and that colour certainly isn't her.

And then she turns to the boy. "Do I know you?" she asks him suddenly, looking up to meet those eyes.

The boy snorts. _Better than you think you do_, he answers. _Anyway, these are the Kioku Marshes. The people you find here are either lost or have forgotten something. It's our first stop before I can send you back._

"Send me back where?" demands Toph. "I'm not going back to that Hall where that… thing can get me."

_You're definitely not going back there_, the boy tells her firmly. _I need to send you home. You can't stay in this world forever – you belong where your family is._

"I'm not going back to my parents, either," she snaps.

_Your friends_, Toph, he says reproachfully. _Don't you consider them as your family?_

She blinks. "Oh. That's okay then." She glances at the Marshes around her – it's a rare experience for her; she wants to make the most of her temporary sight. But she also wants to know how it's possible. So she asks him. "So… You wanna tell me how in the spirits' names I can see colour here?"

_You know how people can dream, right?_ He asks her in reply.

"Not really, but sure."

He rolls his eyes at her. _It's like that. You're not using your actual eyes here._

"So…" she begins her conclusion, "What you're telling me is that this is a dream?"

He smirks. _But you already knew that, didn't you?_

She stares at him; not because she knows it's true but because he can speak to her as if he's not a figment of her imagination playing a character in this elaborately designed inner mind showcase. "…Okay…" she says slowly. "Can you give me a straight answer as to why I'm here in the Marshes, then? Because I'm not lost – how can I be lost if this is my dream?"

_You're here because you made a promise_, he says. _One that you had to forget._

* * *

At twelve years old, this is the furthest she gets. She wakes with a start straight afterwards to find that the earth she depends on so much is still cold from the absence of the sun. The snores on the other side of camp and the light but steady breathing patterns of her friends indicate that it's either very late or very early.

Her feet still feel as if they are covered in mud from the Kioku Marshes but the discoloured swamp plants that looked and felt so real aren't there anymore. Neither is the boy. Or the colour that painted it all so beautifully in her mind.

There is nothing but the two shades of darkness she grew up in again – the one she calls blindness, and the other caused by vibrations emanating from every breathing and moving thing in the area.

_It's just a dream,_ she has to remind herself. _It's not real_.

(Even though she wishes with all her heart that it was).

_

* * *

_

At Thirteen

* * *

One day, the dream changes and doesn't change back.

There have been slight variations before, so when she wakes up in the early morning, she automatically assumes that if it happens to recur again – which she knows it will, because she's had it so many times, it's almost on a regular basis – everything will be back to normal. But it's not.

From that first night on, a woman joins her in the Hall. She's familiar too – nowhere near as familiar as the boy, but familiar, nonetheless. She thinks she might know her in the same way, only not as well.

She appears from one of the darkened ends of the Hall, garbed in a colour Toph's only seen one shade of in this dream world – the marking's on the boy's arms, legs and bald head – and she's wearing a mask that looks as if it belongs to the wall. Its lips are curved slightly, in a permanent benevolent smile, and through the usually dark eyeholes, Toph's dream self can see a pair of bright eyes that match the woman's dress.

She has never met this woman – of that she is sure. But she definitely _knows_ her, at least.

_

* * *

_

Hello,

the woman greets kindly. _Are you new here?_

"Uh…" Toph begins, "Assuming that this is all still in my head, then, no?"

The woman laughs at her answer. At least, she does at first. Then the laugh begins to sound empty, and eerily forced, before the ribbons holding the mask to her face are unravelled and he mask is torn off and thrown to the ground with an echoing _CLACK_, revealing the woman's true face.

She hasn't got one. What's revealed is a stretch of skin with nothing else on it. Even the eyes she thought she saw aren't there anymore.

Toph gasps, and backs away slowly – blind as she is in real life, she knows that this is simply unnatural. Even she knows that a face is something that cannot be stolen.

_Toooph_… The voice is hoarse and she's certain she's never heard it before. She glances around frantically for the speaker when she catches a pair of eyes peering through the eyeholes of the discarded mask. It doesn't look benevolent anymore. It's supposedly fixed mouth is moving – opening and closing and opening again, as if it is trying to speak to her.

_Run… run… Toph… You have to run…_

The faceless body collapses before her and from one of the darkened ends, something wails a high, broken wail. And then she hears that disembodied voice:

_I'm coming for you, child! You can't run from me!_

The mask screams at her. _RUN!_

So she does, but the high wailing begins to get louder and louder – it sounds like it's following her and gaining on her fast. It's awful, she thinks, that she can't earthbend in this dream. To her it feels like the price she has to pay in exchange for subconscious colour. She hates to admit it but without her earthbending, she's almost helpless.

She's still running. So fast that she almost misses the boy. She does double take. As usual, he's offering a hand with that same smile on his face – only he's half way in and half way out of one of the walls.

_C'mon already – before that creature catches up._

* * *

When he pulls her through the wall, she is not surprised to see that they are in the Marshes once again. She is surprised to see that he is leading her away from it in a direction they've never gone before.

_I think it's time we moved on, don't you? _He asks her as he leads her through them.

"Where exactly are we going?" she demands.

_If I told you a place name you've never heard of, it wouldn't make very much of a difference_, he answers with a grin.

He's right of course. His logic couldn't be any simpler. So she asks something else instead.

"_Why_ are we going, then?"

He turns his head slightly to look at her but he doesn't stop walking:_ Do you want to stay in the Marshes?_

"No, but – "

_There you go then, _he tells her with a slight tone of finality. _Your dreams aren't stagnant, you know. They have to move on too._

Toph frowns at him, noting very vaguely that the scenery is beginning to change. It really is a shame she can't use her earthbending to get some straight answers out of this boy. The vague but undeniably logical answers he continues to give her are beginning to annoy her. "Well if that's true, why have I had the same dream for so long?"

_Because there was something you needed to understand and accept before we could move on_, he explains slowly, sounding as if he is choosing his words very, very carefully.

Then he stops at the base of a very steep looking hill – she thinks that's what it is anyway; like the Marshes and the Hall, it's what it feels like – and turns to her.

"Is this our next stop before, let me guess – 'You can send me back'?" she questions with an air of sarcasm. She had to stop herself from using air-quotes.

_No_, the boy says absently.

"Then why are we here?"

_We're waiting for someone_.

"Who, exactly?"

There is a low rumbling from the other side of the hill, and a large, lumbering animal she can't name appears from around the corner.

The boy turns to her and beckons her forward. _Do you remember what that promise was yet?_

"No."

He gives her a small smile and pushes her towards the animal. _This is the Hei Bai, _he says. _For the record, he's a panda and the colours you see on him are black – that's the darker one – and white. He's going to help you remember. Go ahead, say hello._

She makes a face at him. How is she supposed to say hello to a panda that probably has no idea what she's talking about or who the heck she is? "Uh… hi?" she begins, with a tentative hand reached out to touch its fur.

* * *

And then she wakes up. It's the blankets that her hand is touching, not fur, and once again, she can't see a thing but the darkness she now knows the colour of thanks to the boy.

The clarity is gone again, and in its place is that familiar shroud of 'black' that she's beginning to get sick of seeing after waking up from such vivid dreams.

She draws her hand back to her chest and sighs disdainfully. _You have to stop doing that, _she thinks to herself, _it's not real, remember? It's all just a dream._

Although there is a faint notion in the back of her head that tells her that not all of it might be.

_

* * *

_

At Fourteen

* * *

At one point, she realises that the dreams get longer and more frightening as she gets older. It has been two years since they began. They've been changing and growing and recurring ever since.

In all honesty, she's not entirely sure whether she likes them or not.

It's the Hall that she hates. It's the gasping, desperate voice of the mask of the woman that chills her blood and sends shivers up and down her spine. It's the creature of the hall that – she hates to admit – terrifies her the most. She hates that she cannot see it.

It hunts her in her own dream land like an invisible, unstoppable force, and in the daytime, when her vision is obscured by the endless curtain of black, somewhere in the back of her mind is the fear that it is stalking her, lurking in the darkness that only she can see.

Most nights, she convinces herself that the sight of the boy and the technicolour she can only see at night is worth dealing with the fear of the creature. She cannot see at all in reality, and if her dreams give her the one opportunity to experience the light she longs to see, then it is worth the fear.

It's such a wonderful dream land, even with the creature lurking in the darkness. Eventually, she grows to hate waking from them.

But one night, the dream changes again. This time, it is not for the better.

* * *

It begins in the Hall, as always. Only this time, there is no time to register its grandeur.

The woman's mask has already been torn off. She is already screaming at her to run; to hide; to get away from the thing that is coming for her.

From down the Hall, there is laughter. It's a horrible sound. It is an evil, delighted cackle that makes her blood run cold. _You're back, child! _It shouts gleefully, the malice evident in its terrifying voice as it grows louder and nearer. _You cannot escape me and no one is here to save you!_

Toph runs. It's all she can do in this dream world – she cannot fight, and there is no where to hide.

And then, out of nowhere, she bumps into the boy. The force of the crash causes her to stumble but the relief that arrives with his presence is overwhelming.

"It's you!" she gasps, "Thank the spirits!"

But the boy looks grave. _I can't help you, _he tells her. _You're becoming so attached to this place, I've been forbidden to help you._

"What?"

He shakes his head. _I think, _he begins carefully, _that at one point, you realised that once you figured out why this was happening, you realised it would all go away. So subconsciously, you stopped trying to figure it all out. This is not your world, Toph._

She frowns at him, halfway between confusion and anger. "What are you talking about?" she snaps. "How can it not be my world if it's all in my head?"

The boy smiles grimly. _Is it? _He pauses, and in the midst of the cackling from down the hall, his image begins to fade.

"Where are you going?" asks Toph nervously. "Don't leave me!"

_I can't come back_, says the boy sadly. _Not until you realise what it is that you promised me._

"Wait!" she cries. But it is too late. The boy is gone, and the cackling has reached such volumes that she has to clap her hands over her ears.

_You cannot run from me, child! YOU ARE MINE!_

Toph crouches, covering her head with her arms and bracing herself with eyes shut tight. _It's just a dream!_ she reminds herself desperately, willing herself to wake. _Wake up, it's just a dream!_

* * *

Then it all stops. The sudden absence of sound comes as a small shock and when she opens her eyes again, there is nothing there. Only the familiar, black, backdrop she has grown so accustomed to over the years.

She releases the shaky breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and hugs the blankets to her chest. For the first time, she is glad to be awake. And for the first time, she wishes that she will never have to visit that dream land again.

_

* * *

_

At Fifteen

* * *

The boy does not return after the first nightmare.

The dream land she once looked forward to seeing for the colour and the boy that introduced her to it has turned into the stuff of nightmares. She is now almost terrified of going to sleep because of what is waiting for her in her subconscious.

She's so terrified, even Aang is starting to notice what's going on.

He sits before her one night and while they are travelling in the Earth Kingdom on Avatar business and begins to interrogate her.

"What's going on, Toph?" he asks her, seriously.

There is a pause in which Toph can feel Aang's searching gaze upon her face. It's an uncomfortable pause – she almost feels inclined to turn her face away.

"It's nothing," she says, perhaps a little too quickly.

Aang is not appeased. "You've been having some really horrible nightmares, haven't you?" he asks her quietly.

There is another pause. After which, Toph opens her mouth to speak but Aang cuts across her.

"Don't lie to me, okay, Toph?" he tells her. "I hear you every other night, shifting around and mumbling in your sleep – '_Help me! Come back, please! Don't leave me here – don't let it get me!' – _and one night, you actually woke up screaming. There's something wrong, Toph, and I want to make it stop haunting you at night."

Ordinarily, Toph would deny this vehemently. She does not need his pity or his help and she would rather eat a brick than allow him the privilege of knowing that she is plagued by nightmares about an invisible creature. How can she expect him to understand? If she explains, she will have to explain to him about her dreams in technicolour, and his response will be "How can a blind person dream in colour anyway?"

But times have changed, and this is not at all ordinary.

She still refuses to tell him everything, but she at least allows him honour of knowing that she cannot sleep; that there is _something _hunting her down at night.

Aang does not ask questions. He offers to watch over her while she sleeps instead.

For the millionth time in her life, she acknowledges how good a friend Aang is.

* * *

The nightmare begins again.

The woman's mask is on the floor, screaming at her as it has done for so long – begging her to run and get away from the approaching monster. The cackling from the darkened end of the Hallway is louder than usual, and it sounds more excited than she has ever heard it before.

_You are mine now, child! You cannot escape me!_

It sounds triumphant. Somewhere, in her gut, Toph realises that what it says is true.

There is _no way _she can run from something that lives in the darkest corners of her mind. She can never outrun it. She can never fight it. She will be doomed to face this nightmare for the rest of her life if she cannot remember what it was that she promised the boy.

_You belong to me, Bei Fong! _

The creature is nearing but it still has not emerged from the shadows. She ransacks her mind. She has never met the boy – she tells herself – how can she have promised something to someone she has never met?

And yet he seems so familiar… It is all so impossible unless…

Unless… she _has _met him before…

In the moment of revelation, the monstrous voice roars at her. _YOUR FACE BELONGS TO ME! _And out of the shadows, something huge rushes towards her – a many legged something with a great coiling and uncoiling segmented body, scuttling at her at lightning speed. Its face wears the mask of an old man, which, a moment later, it discards and replaces with another, and then another, and then another…

It rears back, the current mask splits in two and reveals a large, gaping mouth, widening, ready to swallow her whole –

She shuts her eyes tightly, readying herself for whatever might happen next when something in the back of her mind clicks.

"I remember," she whispers. "Twinkletoes… I remember!"

* * *

"Toph! Toph, I'm right here, wake up!"

Her eyes snap open, but the monster is not there. Nothing is. The unending darkness has returned again, but she sits up with a start and turns her head in the direction of Aang's voice.

"Twinkles…" she starts, breathless. "It was you… that whole time…"

"What?" he asks her. She can hear the frown in his voice. "What are you talking about?"

Blindly, she extends her arms, her dirt stained fingers searching for his face – the same face, she realises, that had introduced her to the Hei Bai, the one that had told her what colour her world of darkness had always been.

He catches her hands with his own. "Toph… what are you doing?"

She wrenches her arms out of his grip and narrows her sightless eyes at him impatiently. "That promise I made you… so long ago… I remember it now."

"_What are you talking about?"_

"Your face, Aang!" she snaps. "I remember it now!"

It comes out in a rush. She doesn't quite know what made her say it so bluntly – perhaps she should have explained what had been happening first. She can tell by his silence that he is stunned. She takes her cue to continue.

"Ages ago. In the Spirit World – there was a… a thing that wanted my face. You got it back. I remember now! It was weird because I could see in the Spirit World because one of the Avatars said that we don't really use our eyes there – and I didn't recognise you at first because I'd never seen you before and you told me – after you pulled me out and just before we came back – you made me promise…"

"Not to forget what I looked like…" Aang mumbles. "I don't understand…" he says weakly. "How? Yangchen told me you would forget everything!"

Toph shrugs. "Let me touch your face," she says quickly. "The boy in those dreams… I gotta know if he was really you."

Aang pauses for a moment, and then he takes her hands and complies, guiding them towards his face. Her fingers trace unseeingly over his nose, his eyes, his ears, his lips, his forehead, his arrow, as if they are memorising each of his features.

"No hair," she mutters. "The kid really was you."

"Hm?" he questions as she removes her hands from his face.

"The boy… I've been dreaming about him for so long. He pulled me out the Hall and introduced me to the Hei Bai… and then he left."

There is moment of silence, and out of nowhere, Toph hits him.

"You left me there!" she barks. "You told me that I was starting to like those dreams too much and you _left me there _for that _thing _to come and get me!"

"I didn't!" Aang retorts. "I spent hours looking for you! I even got lost – I wouldn't have left without you!"

Toph hits him again. "That's not what you did in those dreams!"

He catches her hands again. "Then it couldn't have been me because I would never have left you there!" he snaps. "And stop hitting me!"

Toph shakes her head. "No," she says, "No, that kid was definitely you, Twinkles."

"I still don't understand, though," says Aang. He sounds confused. He's probably frowning at her and Toph realises that it's one of the many expressions she will probably never get to see. The Aang in her dreams had always been so complacent. "How?"

Again, Toph shrugs. "Those dreams weren't ordinary dreams. Somehow… I think the whole point of them was so I would remember. I'd been having them for so long… I never put any effort into remembering what it was that you told me I'd forgotten. You can't blame me," she adds, "I could see colour in those dreams – and now, it's all gone again. Nothing good ever lasts…"

"I wouldn't call those nightmares good," says Aang darkly. "You scared me then, Toph. You were gone – we couldn't find you and somehow, I just knew that you couldn't come back by yourself. I thought I'd never see you again."

There is more silence – longer this time but much more comfortable than any of the awkward pauses that had resulted from this conversation so far.

Finally, Toph sighs. "Thank you," she says quietly, "for… y'know, coming to get me. Even in the dreams, that's what you did. And I'm sorry I forgot… and took this long to remember."

Aang hesitates. At least she thinks he does – he may just be shaking his head because afterwards, she can almost hear him smiling. "You really think I would have left you there? You're my best friend, Toph, I thought you knew better."

She scoffs. "Still though," she mumbles. "Now that I do remember, I just feel like I should – "

But he interrupts her. "Now that you remember," he begins patiently, "I told you that you didn't need to thank me so long as you didn't leave me without telling me again."

"But – "

"No buts," says Aang sharply. "Just don't leave again." And then, after a second he adds with what sounds like a grin, "And don't forget what I look like again, now that you know." Then the vibrations in the earth tell her that he shifts a little, and leans towards her.

The kiss he places on her forehead is unexpected.

And in that moment, when she feels his lips touch her skin, she cannot help but notice that the darkness that shrouds her world suddenly seems just that one shade brighter.

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
